


Moths to a Flame

by orphan_account



Series: Stars in the Soul [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Happy, High School, I miss my bro, I saw starset and palisades, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Self-Insert, Sentimental, Siblings, the concert was awesome, this one makes me emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24099721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Series: Stars in the Soul [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738795
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Moths to a Flame

_tl;dr: I see my brother sing for the first time,_

_and realize that he's so much happier_

_than when we were kids. I'm proud of him._

* * *

_And we were bold_

_Over the world_

_We were flying through the satellites_

It smelled like sweat and beer and occasionally, the musk of cannabis. With such short stature, it was difficult to see over the jumping bodies and the fists raised in the air. While speakers hummed in our ears, the lights shone over our faces, illuminating the crowd in a flashing blue light. The mist that erupted from some technical concoction on the stage was drifting slowly over our heads, too high to reach.

_We had a hold_

_Of the lightning strikes_

_When we should have been afraid of heights_

I had skipped a football game for this. I should have been performing with the band at halftime. I should have been at the school, but instead, I was here on the beer-slick pit floor from when someone had thrown a cup so disgracefully over the balcony above, with one perfectly white shoe unknowingly resting in the puddle, the other balanced between a tangle of unfamiliar legs.

_And I was trying just to get you_

_And now I'm dying to forget you_

_Cause I knew I couldn't catch you_

Strangers’ voices sang along with mine. I was fighting desperately to see over taller heads, to get a glimpse at the stage, to put a face to the name. My vision was blurring. _Maybe I should have brought my glasses_. Standing awkwardly, and singing even worse, I turned my head, hoping that I hadn’t lost myself in the undulating crowd, that my brother was still standing beside me. He’d gone quiet, cheered less, jumped less.

_So I left the sky_

_And I fell behind_

I had not seen him in months. He was always hours away doing whatever college things he did, and I was here. Here—but not home, because neither of us could call that house a home. Because neither of us wanted to go back. Neither of us wanted to see the faces of the people who raised us. _Tolerated_ us. Trapped us. I wondered when he would leave to go back to _his_ home, whether it be seconds after the concert, or when the weekend came to a conclusion. Whenever he visited, his departure was vague. I wondered if I was able to see him for just a few more hours, or a few fortunate days.

But I saw him then, still next to me, but perhaps squeezed a bit further away from the bodies that had strung together in the pit. Faces glossy and turquoise from the lights, hazy from my tired gaze, but I could make out the movement of his lips and the way it twitched upwards in a content smile. He was far, but close enough that I could see the comfort in his face.

_We were one and the same_

_Running like moths to the flame_

He mouthed the words delicately and suddenly, I remembered that this was the same boy that had been so cruel to me in childhood. The same one that would glare and shove, the same one that was vexed at every breath I took. It was not a part of him, but rather the cage we grew up in, and I did not realize that until later in life. He was restless, sick of it, could no longer tolerate the confines of that house. But he had changed. It did not strike me until I turned my attention back to the stage that I had never seen him sing before. Years of living together, and I had never seen my brother enjoy music in such a way.

_You'd hang on every word I'd say_

_But now they only ricochet_

Later, at a fried chicken joint with hazy yellow lights and the light clinking of cups from neighboring customers, we laughed over everything and nothing. I didn’t pick up my mother’s nagging calls. _It’s midnight, you shouldn’t be out. It’s too late and you’re too young. He can’t take care of you._ We laughed, poked fun at how the woman we called Mom thought college had changed him, turned him against the family. That somehow, his joy was something vile, that when he realized he deserved better, he should have been ashamed.  
  


College didn’t _change_ him. He found the delicacies of liberation, the pleasure of being _alive_ , and I knew that feeling would be waiting for me, too, someday.


End file.
